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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27086800">straying from the thunder</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/epicmoonintensifies/pseuds/epicmoonintensifies'>epicmoonintensifies</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>RWBY Soulmates [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>RWBY</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Romantic Soulmates, Soulmate-Identifying Marks</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-09 02:41:09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,189</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27086800</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/epicmoonintensifies/pseuds/epicmoonintensifies</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>He had lived for thousands of years. He had only four soulmates in all that time.</p><p>You would be the miraculous, impossible fifth.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ozpin (RWBY)/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>RWBY Soulmates [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1977034</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>56</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>straying from the thunder</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Your soulmark showed up when you were ten. It was too early.</p><p>The mark on your shoulder looked something like a pale green watch face with lightning twisting around it. The numbers, almost too tiny to read, as well as the clock’s delicate hands (which occasionally moved, but never consistently and sometimes backwards), were gleaming silver. The lightning, which you were sure occasionally glowed even though you had never really seen it do so, also moved, sometimes branching out to strike the line of your spine or the curve of your shoulder blade in slow motion before returning to crackle along the edge of the watch. That, you took as a comfort, occasionally sitting with your back bare to a mirror so you could look behind you to watch it. It was sort of like your soulmate was touching you, you thought. You could imagine that it was a caring hand and not a streak of lightning that was brushing across your skin and tracing your spine.</p><p>But perhaps that was just wishful fancy.</p><p>
  <em>Of course it was.</em>
</p><p>Most people showed their soulmarks off as often as possible, if they could. You had once met a man who almost constantly went shirtless in public because his soulmark wrapped around his entire back and hooked over his shoulders to touch his collarbones, just for good measure (his soulmate, when he found her, had a very… <em>outgoing</em> personality). This was for the sole purpose of having one’s soulmate see their soulmark on one’s body or vice versa. It was the most straightforward and traditional way of doing things, really. You, however, were not so comfortable doing so. Exposing your soulmark felt like your were exposing your soulmate himself, throwing some special, personal part of him out into the world for everybody to see. And <em>that </em>felt wrong. Very wrong. Like you were making him vulnerable, which… which would be bad. You weren’t sure how or why, but… when you looked at your soulmark, the lightning at its edges seemed defensive. Like your soulmate was shielding himself.</p><p>So you avoided tank-tops and sundresses and off-the-shoulder whatevers and even wide-necked shirts. You picked thicker, darker fabrics. You kept your soulmark covered no matter how much you were looked at strangely for doing so. You felt a desperate need to keep it covered. To keep your soulmark and, thusly, your soulmate, <em>safe</em>.</p><p>It was insane. There was probably something wrong with you. This was probably a disorder. You probably needed therapy. Getting your soulmark so early had probably done something to you psychologically.</p><p>You didn’t care.</p><p>With each passing year, it seemed less likely that you would meet him. Protecting him would probably be the only thing you could ever do for him.</p>
<hr/><p>Ozpin was surprised (and this is an understatement of massive proportions) by the appearance of a soulmark on the back of his neck, mostly because he had no idea it was there in the first place.</p><p>(In his defense, it wasn’t there yesterday.)</p><p>(In his defense, also, it was very, <em>very</em> late. Most people received their soulmarks in their late teens. He wasn’t expecting to receive one at all.)</p><p>It was Glynda who noticed it. She seemed hesitant to mention it when she did, as though unsure if it were something she was allowed to speak of or even acknowledge, but it was a good thing that she <em>did</em> speak of it, otherwise he would not have noticed it at all. His hair curtained over the top half of the mark and his scarf covered the bottom, but Glynda, walking behind him, had caught sight of a sliver of color in the space in between.</p><p>And what glorious color it was.</p><p>It took two mirrors and a clip to keep his hair out of the way, but when Ozpin <em>finally</em> got a good look at his soulmark, he felt both fear and relief. Fear, because he knew that his soulmate was out there somewhere with a his soulmark, which… could be very, very dangerous.</p><p>This would not be his first soulmate.</p><p>He had been privileged to have several soulmates, over the ages, but with each life he lived, he was less likely to have one. His age (ancient), and his experience (vast), and his… well, body-hopping, for lack of a better term, made his soul less and less compatible with others. The process of moving from one body to another, mixing his soul with that of each host’s along the way, always changed him in a manner that was irreversible and strange. Too strange for most others to tolerate, much less love. He could barely tolerate it himself.</p><p>He had lived for thousands of years. He had only four soulmates in all that time.</p><p>You would be the miraculous, <em>impossible</em> fifth. It was for this reason that he felt relief. It had been a very, very long time since he had taken comfort in a soulmate, since he had been loved as only a soulmate could love him, and he had <em>ached</em> to have that feeling back. Now there was you. Whoever and wherever you were, he would find you. He<em> had</em> to find you. Not just because he wanted you (needed you), but because with his soulmark on your body, you were at risk.</p><p>Ozpin’s soulmark, no matter who it was on, remained the same over thousands of years. It was one part of him that never changed.</p><p>Salem knew what his soulmark looked like. She had seen it on one of his previous soulmates. And Salem had very likely taught all of her agents what it looked like (Hazel most <em>certainly</em> knew), so that if they ever came across the mark in passing… Ozpin could only imagine what they would do to you. Kill you, maybe, just to cause him pain. Or, more likely, they would take you back to Salem and she would use you as bait. Very effective bait. If Salem had you, then Salem had Ozpin. It was as simple as that. He <em>could not</em> leave his soulmate, even one he did not know, in <em>her</em> hands.</p><p>He did not tell Glynda all of this, but he told her enough to know that you were in danger and that he was desperate.</p><p>You <em>had</em> to be found.</p>
<hr/><p>You had never been to Beacon. Never attended it, never took a tour, never went there to access their big-as-all-get-out library.</p><p>It just… wasn’t an option you had ever seriously considered. Your parents hadn’t bothered putting you in a combat school like Signal, and you only ever took the basic combat classes in your regular school, mostly for self-defense purposes, so… even if you had wanted to attend Beacon, you would never have passed an entry test. Which was fine. Beacon Academy just wasn’t in your future, and it never occurred to you, even for a second, to be disappointed about that.</p><p><em>However</em>, you had made up for that by keeping up on your academics, and you had specialized in Grimm Studies. And, since you weren’t a Huntress, there was <em>one</em> place within Vale’s city limits where that particular topic could be considered useful.</p><p>Beacon Academy was in your future after all.</p><p>Getting a chance to work there was… weirdly easy. As it turned out, Grimm Studies was not a popular topic to major in, mostly because it’s hard to study something that is pure evil, hyper-aggressive towards anything that moves, and <em>immediately disintegrates after it dies</em>.</p><p>“You’ll be working under Professor Port,” Professor Goodwitch told you as you struggled to keep up through the swift pace she was making through Beacon Academy’s hallways. They weren’t as complicated as you had been expecting, but maybe they just seemed simple because you were practically running through them.</p><p>Glynda Goodwitch was a very intimidating woman. And she had a riding crop. You considered yourself appropriately cowed, and she had barely even looked at you since you got here.</p><p>“He can be somewhat difficult to work with if you are not used to him,” the professor continued. The words had a sardonic scrape to them. “And sometimes even if you know him very well. He is very self-assured, but he sometimes struggles to keep the attention of his students in class. It will be very helpful to him if you can keep them on track.”</p><p><em>Sometimes probably means most of the time</em>, you guessed. Well, you couldn’t fix the guy’s problems if he was too wrapped up in himself to notice that his students were nodding off. Then again, maybe it wasn’t that at all. Maybe his syllabus just needed a little sprucing up. Maybe the kids needed a little more action? Or a little less. Or maybe Professor Port was really that bad and he deserved every speck of sarcasm Goodwitch was staining his reputation with.</p><p>Oh, dear, she was still talking.</p><p>“… and if he makes any inappropriate comments, I want you to come <em>straight</em> to <em>me</em>…”</p><p>Inappropriate comments? Oh, great. Fan-flipping-tastic. One of <em>those</em>.</p><p>“The headmaster will be coming to meet you at noon, so I suggest you take an early lunch.”</p><p>Ah. Right. The headmaster. Professor Ozpin. He was a legend. What he was a legend for, you weren’t exactly sure and had never cared enough to know, but now you had to wonder. Maybe he was legendary for being a hard-headed pain in the asses of his fellow teachers.</p><p>Holy Dust, you were not prepared for this.</p>
<hr/><p>At noon, you were no more prepared.</p><p>Professor Port was a really,<em> really</em> nice guy. Blunt and maybe a little too forward, but really nice. He just wasn’t a particularly good teacher (which didn’t make him a bad person). And he was also a little inappropriate (which also didn’t make him a bad person but really needed to be addressed). Yeah, you’d be talking to Goodwitch, alright. You didn’t want to get the guy fired. Just… a stern talking-to and a slap on the wrist would at least <em>help</em>, right? Especially if he had you in the classroom as his TA to remind him that he was being observed. Yeah. That would help. All of this would get taken care of, you would be able to settle into a comfortable routine, and everything would be just fine.</p><p>So you were tired. That was to be expected, whether a teacher put you to sleep with his voice or not. <em>As a whole, it had gone well.</em> You had gotten along with Port. The kids seemed to like you. You knew what you needed to do to help improve this classroom and work as a TA until you had a more permanent position as a real professor. Which wouldn’t be too terribly far off, since Professor Port appeared to be displaying all the signs and symptoms of someone ready to <em>retire</em>.</p><p>You collected your notes on the class and your copy of the syllabus with a tired sigh. Being tired wasn’t helping, but everything had actually gone well.</p><p>Maybe this would all work out after all.</p><p>You felt a slight tingle as the lightning on your shoulder began to branch out towards your spine. It had been doing that a lot lately. It used to only happen a few times a week, but for the past month or so, it had been happening a few times a <em>day</em>. You had never heard of marks changing like that. Ones that moved regularly were rare enough. One like yours, that moved almost constantly… your soulmate would be special, alright.</p><p>A clock and lightning. A clock and lightning. What did that even<em> mean</em>?</p><p>Your soulmate would know. But your soulmate would probably never see your mark because you obsessively kept it covered instead of showing it like everybody else did.</p><p><em>It’s safe this way</em>, you told yourself, reaching back to press the mark through your clothes. Safe from what, you didn’t know. You only knew that it was true. <em>He’s safe this way.</em></p><p>“Miss?”</p><p>You turned and found yourself face-to-face with the headmaster of Beacon.</p><p>
  <em>Oh…. Wow.</em>
</p><p>This guy, <em>Professor Ozpin himself</em>, with his very nice suit and very nice scarf and very dangerous-looking cane, looked like he was about to drop dead of exhaustion.</p><p>He also looked like the most beautiful person you had ever seen.</p><p>His amber eyes were bloodshot. His skin was sickly pale. He was tall (<em>very</em>), but his shoulders sagged. His mouth (pretty lips, chapped) had a grim set to it. Hair that had gone silver prematurely, judging by the lack of lines on his face, was messy and unkempt. That very, very nice suit was rumpled. If he <em>did</em> sleep, he did so with that suit on.</p><p>“Professor Port’s new assistant, I presume,” he finally said after you stared for too long.</p><p>“Yes, sir,” you answered immediately, avoiding eye-contact out of sheer embarrassment. He looked like he had been having the worst week of his life and you had been <em>ogling </em>him. While he was trying to <em>talk </em>to you. <em>Ugh.</em> “Professor Ozpin?”</p><p>“Correct.” He gave you an almost-smile. It probably would have been a real and very nice smile, if he had actually slept sometime within the last forty-eight hours. Obviously, he hadn’t. "If you don’t mind taking a walk with me?“</p><p>If you did mind, it wasn’t like you would say <em>no</em>.</p><p>You almost felt like saying no for<em> his</em> sake. This guy -Professor <em>Ozpin</em>- did not need to take a walk. He needed to take a nap. He needed to take a <em>vacation</em>. He could at least sit <em>down</em> and talk to you. Or <em>lie</em> down. Maybe eat a snack and get in some liquids while he was at it, because if he wasn’t sleeping, you could bet that he wasn’t eating or drinking like he needed to be, either. Maybe you could trick him into eating some of your lunch? No, that was silly. But…</p><p>
  <em>But, nothing! I’m not his mother!</em>
</p><p>So you walked. And you discovered that while Glynda was a heel-wearing speed-walker from Hell or Grimmland, Ozpin simply had the natural benefit of infinitely long legs (yes, <em>infinitely</em>, they went on for<em>ever</em>), and you had trouble keeping up with <em>either</em> of them.</p><p>And it was because of this that you ended up just behind him enough times to notice the glimmer of color on his neck.</p><p>You stopped dead in your tracks.</p><p>Ozpin looked back at you questioningly when he realized that you had stop trying to keep up with his long strides. Amber eyes. <em>Beautiful</em> amber eyes. Oh, you were doomed even if that maybe-mark on the back of his neck wasn’t what you thought it was. You were doomed no matter what. Doom was your destiny as he turned to face you and cocked his head to the side (why was that cute, what the hell).</p><p>"I…” You croaked slightly, making a meaningless twitching motion with your hand. "I, um, on the back of your…“</p><p>You reached back to scratch the nape of your own neck. Oh, this was a special kind of embarrassing, wasn’t it? If you were wrong, you would simply have to never look at the headmaster ever again for as long as you lived (which would be a shame, because… <em>well</em>).</p><p>Realization dawned on the headmaster's face. His amber eyes widened.</p><p>"Oh,” he said. He wavered there for a moment, swaying slightly as he actually <em>looked</em> at you now, taking in the whole sight of you. His lips quirked up at the corners in a hesitant smile.</p><p>“I’m not - sure? I…” You cringed at your own ineloquence. "I didn’t see…“</p><p>Professor Ozpin didn’t appear to be listening, however, as he turned his back on you. <em>No</em>, you thought, but then his scarf was pulled away to be slung neatly over one arm, and he reached back to push his own hair aside.</p><p>There it was. A soulmark. An amazingly vivid, complex soulmark. You had never seen yourself that way, never considered for a moment that you were as beautiful as to make a mark like that on someone else’s body, but when you saw it in full, you knew. That mark was yours. That mark was <em>you</em>.</p><p>"Is this yours?” Ozpin asked softly after your silent watching, once <em>again</em>, lasted too long. This time, the professor’s voice quavered.</p><p>Fear. You couldn’t trick yourself into thinking that tone was one of anything but fear. He was just as afraid as you were.</p><p>“Yes,” you said, and Ozpin’s tense shoulders quivered. "That’s definitely mine.“</p><p>And then Ozpin was facing you and <em>much</em> closer than he was half a second before. His hands hovered just shy of pulling you into an embrace even as his face dropped the mask of tired serenity he had been wearing to reveal a desperate yearning.</p><p>"And mine?” he asked. His eyes searched your face as if a soulmark might suddenly materialize on your cheek. “Do you have…?”</p><p>“Back of my left shoulder,” you said, although not with the same impersonal resentment you usually said the words with at the registration office, where you had always wanted to say,<em> none of your business, good day to you sir</em>. You had refused to give them any more information on your soulmark, feeling violated by the process that most other people happily went through, if only to heighten their chances of finding their soulmates through exposure. “Here, I’ll show you.”</p><p>Your heart pounded as you shrugged off your jacket. Ozpin took it from you without a word and slung it across his arm along with his scarf. You peeled off your shirt, too, to reveal the tank-top underneath. You paused, then. You could feel the lightning, in its slow-motion strike, still reaching across your skin towards your spine. The lightning was <em>him</em>. The mark on your body was <em>his</em>, an imprint of his <em>soul</em>, and after thinking you would never find him, now…</p><p>Now.</p><p>Before you could lose your nerve (anymore than you already had), you turned your back to Ozpin.</p><p>His faint gasp hurt you and thrilled you. You felt him draw closer until his hands gripped your bare arms, maybe to steady himself or to steady you, and he knelt down until you could feel his breath against your skin.</p><p>“Yes,” you heard him say, so faintly that you almost thought you had imagined it. “Yes, this is mine.”</p><p>And then his lips were on you, tracing the lightning from your shoulder to your spine, so tender and gentle that you could hardly stand it. The soulbond was already forming as you accepted one another, binding you together, and Ozpin’s kisses became more fervent as the bond strengthened.</p><p>“I was afraid,” he gasped against your skin. The lightning crackled in response to his touch. "I was so afraid for you. This mark is dangerous.“</p><p>"I knew,” you assured him. And you would be demanding an explanation for that, later.</p><p>You pried yourself away from him only so you could turn and face him. He immediately gathered you back into his arms, holding you almost too tightly, with a desperation you somehow understood.</p><p>“I have you.”</p>
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